


Fearful Symmetry

by Saucery



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Androids, Can Heroes Be Manufactured?, Crack, Creator/Created, Even if He Made It, Ficlet, Goddamn Steve and his Goddamn Perfectitude, Kink Meme, M/M, Pseudoscience, Sentience, Snippet, Surreal, THE QUESTION OF OUR TIME, Technology, The Author is Clearly Insane, Tony is Helpless Before Such Perfection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saucery/pseuds/Saucery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony isn't exactly Pygmalion, but damn if Steve isn't the perfect Galatea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fearful Symmetry

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](https://twitter.com/KinkMeme/status/208056392970547200) sample prompt over at the [Twitter Kink Meme](https://twitter.com/#!/KinkMeme). This is a slightly-edited version of the series of tweets that had formed the [original fill](https://twitter.com/KinkMeme/status/208063640375541760).

* * *

  


Tony raises his visor, running his gloved hands along the newly-welded wires, still unconcealed by synthetic skin. It's almost a shame, to cover up all that artistry, where physics becomes consciousness. But, hey. He has to. That's the point. Stark Enterprises is making inroads into humanistic AI. And Captain America... he's exactly what the world needs, isn't he? Programmed to be perfect. In every way. Chivalrous; strong; selfless. Beautiful. Tony's a connoisseur of beauty, in circuitry and out; he can damn well create it.

The face, at least, is already sprayed with Tony's very own brand of synthskin; it's pale and lovely, noble-browed and lush-mouthed. Pornographic, almost, in a wholesome, cornfed sort of way. Not that there's been any corn-feeding, going on, here. Isotope-feeding, maybe. Definitely.

"Wake up, Captain," he says, and the android's fingers twitch. "You've been called to duty."

The blue eyes snap open; Tony'll have to get them to flutter open, next time. To seem more human. "Yes, sir," says the android, and swings his legs off the table. They gleam, obscenely perfect curves of metallic musculature.

"First mission: Walk. Get me a cup of coffee." The android's eyes flick to him, sudden and focused as twin cameras, pupils contracting like apertures. Which, well. That's what they _are_.

"Your request for coffee has no bearing on national security or the welfare of civilians." The android doesn't move.

Tony raises his eyebrows. "Seriously? Snarking back, already? Bad doggy." The android _twitches_ , and straightens its shoulders.

"You created me for a purpose. Sir. I will fulfill it. Other purposes are... irrelevant."

"So," says Tony, slowly, "if school-kids were in a hostage situation a mile away, you'd save _them_ , but you won't get me coffee?"

"No, sir," the android replies, implacable. Gorgeous. _Infuriating._ "Coffee is not my purpose. Perhaps you should summon Dum-E."

"Are you being _sarcastic_ , now?" Tony hadn't programmed _that_. Had he? Unless the droid had auto-learned it from overhearing Tony talking to... pretty much anyone, but especially Coulson, during the initial developmental phase. Damn it. "Forget the goddamn coffee." Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. "Get back on the slab, Frankenstein, and lemme put some skin on you."

The android settles back on the slab. Tony really _doesn't_ want to cover all that glittering machinery with skin, but, whatever. SHIELD wants a 'human-seeming' robot. Well, they're getting one. A snarky son-of-a-bitch with way too much spine for an _android_.

"Stay still," Tony murmurs, as he sprays the skin over the limbs and torso, and gets the droid to turn over, so he can do its back. "Done," he says, at last, and steps away.

The android sits up. "Am I complete, now, sir?"

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tony mutters, staring. Too fucking perfect. Not that Tony's jealous of his own creation, or anything. "You aren't just complete; half the population of the United States will want you to complete _them_."

The droid looks puzzled. "Are there many civilians in need of prosthetics, sir? If so, I can build - "

"Fuck. Just... deactivate. For now. I'll wake you up when we have a real mission, 'kay?"

The droid's eyes narrow, fucking _mutinously_ , like maybe it doubts Tony's devotion to the safety of the American public.

"Yes, sir," its says, finally, grudgingly, and deactivates - but not before reaching out to brush Tony's hand, as if... what? Seeking reassurance from a _parent_? That's ridiculous. The droid clearly can't stand him.

Tony fetches himself some goddamn coffee, collapses onto his chair, and watches his latest creation sleep.


End file.
